A Date For Valentines Day
by JanetBanana
Summary: A fluffy Chyan ONESHOT I wrote for Valentines Day.


Authors Note: It's a couple of days late for Valentines Day, but that is the subject. Just a fluffy one shot. First thing I've written that I haven't hated in months, and consequently the first that I've posted in months.

Disclaimer: If I owned even a tiny part of the vast money making machine that is High School Musical, do you really think I'd still live at home with my parents at 23?

_**A Date For Valentines Day**_

Denial, they say, is a river in Egypt. Well if that is true, I, Ryan Evans, will swear to you that Chad Danforth has riverfront property there. His summer house's back door opens onto the riverbank, and his front door opens onto Straight Street, which incidentally, is circular. And in the land of denial, everything is made of lame metaphors like that. Because it's a lame land altogether.

His residence in denial is the _only_ lame thing about Chad. Otherwise, he's amazing. He's built, he's got these shoulders that you just want to hold on to. His hair, I'm pretty sure, is as unique to him as anything. I've never seen such gorgeous hair on a boy. If you know of a boy with hair like that who isn't living in denial, let me know, because _damn._ But I don't just like him for his hair. He has an amazing personality, and a great sense of humor. People are often asked what the most important quality they look for in a potential mate is. I once heard a girl say "a sense of humor, because eventually everything else will go but that". I particularly like that assessment, and Chad had that quality in spades.

I'm sure you don't really care to hear me blathering on about him forever, so let me get on with my story. You see, that day—the one where single people every where hold their breath for twenty four hours in hopes that they don't actually get a sick headache from all the saccharine-sweet couples all around them—was coming up. And despite my being known around my high school campus as something of a manwhore who will date anything with a pulse, (which is not true by the way, my standards are very high! I just don't discriminate between male and female is all) I've never had a date for Valentines Day. And I was determined to kill three birds with one stone: get a date for that day, woo Chad, and bulldoze Chad's home in denial. So I set out to do the getting, which is hard for me. Usually the people I date are clamoring to date me. Being the chasee was fun, being the chaser? Nearly impossible.

So I did what anyone in this position would do. I made a lame plan, and asked a girl what she thought. Not Sharpay though. That would have been asking for trouble. She really doesn't need any more blackmailing material on me, she has enough already. So I asked Gabriella. I told her my plan and she actually thought it would work.

Saturday was Valentines Day, when there was no school. Today was Friday, when the school Valentines Messenger Service (student council) provided classroom delivery of flowers, treats, and messages as a fundraiser. So Friday at school I sent a bag of cookies (I didn't know if Chad would react all that well to a flower) with a note attached. It read:

_Sushi is nice,_

_Spaghetti is too,_

_But salsa is spicy,_

_And so are you._

_For a spicy evening be at Lava Road Park at 5:00 (and don't forget your dancing shoes.)_

Either it would be really obvious to Chad who sent that, or he would just assume someone was planning to take him to the school Sweetheart Ball which was Saturday evening. I was kind of hoping for the latter so the surprise would be bigger.

The cookies were set to arrive in Ms. Darbus' class, which Chad and I had together. I watched as Ms. Darbus became annoyed when the cart full of goodies arrived, some to be dispensed during her valuable teaching time. I watched as Troy and Gabriella acted like a pair of fools over each other. I watched my sister get tons of anonymous flowers and candies from hangers on, and received quite a few myself. I recognized some from long time fans, but some were anonymous. I saw Kelsi blush as she received a rose from a secret admirer. Jason was shy but ecstatic over his new boyfriend's homemade soufflé, and Zeke was appreciative when Jason reciprocated with flowers, he not being quite as talented in the kitchen. And I watched Chad (who annoyingly, seemed to be the _last _person in the class to get his gift) accept the cookies and read the note. He didn't seem to know who sent it, though I could swear his eyes flickered my way. He seemed pleased though, as he grinned and ate one of the cookies while Ms. Darbus, who for the moment was subdued by receiving a flower herself (we think it was the history professor), waxed poetic about romantic plays. It seemed to be a good Valentine's Day for everyone at East High, as the bell rang and kids poured out of the hallway, a large portion of them loaded down not only with books and backpacks, but with more treats. They all looked about ready to burst into song, and at East High, you never really know. It just might happen.

Friday evening I went shopping. Saturday afternoon I started cooking. I baked enchiladas and taquitos. I made salsa, guacamole, and cheese dip. I got dressed. I wore black pants with shiny red pinstripes. I wore a red button up shirt with shiny threads woven through it. I unbuttoned a few buttons to further emulate the typical movie Spanish lover. Don't worry, I wasn't going to be lame and stick a rose in my teeth. I did wear at black fedora with a red band. Continuing with this theme I mixed up some margaritas. My parents have a bad habit of leaving their liquor cabinet open. Don't worry, I don't take from it often, just every once in a great while. Everything went into a basket and into the car and I drove to the park. When I got there I brought out the stereo I had brought with me and turned on some mariachi music for atmosphere.

Now it's confession time. I have an illness. Once I latch on to a theme, I go all out. I nearly hired a mariachi _band_, but I figured that might make Chad nervous. And I didn't decide on this theme, actually, the dance committee did. They were having a 'latin flair' Sweetheart Ball and I wanted my ensemble to fit in, just in case I got crowned king. I'd been nominated, you see. So I made the entire evening Latin flavored. Really kitschy, too, because it seemed Chad would enjoy a little kitsch. Mostly Mexican influenced, because it was most easily accessed here in New Mexico. Kelsi said the dance would be too, she was on the dance committee.

So I spread the tablecloth, which was covered with sombreros, on the picnic table. I served up my food on plates with pictures of cactuses on them. I poured my margaritas into yellow plastic mugs with red chili peppers for handles. I thought of putting them in the appropriate kinds of glasses, but we didn't have any plastic ones, and I didn't want an accidental broken glass mess. Everything was ready, so I covered the food so it wouldn't be disturbed by bugs or birds, and then I waited.

Minutes later, at 4:58, Chad drove up. He got out of the car, and the first words out of his mouth were "an _Evans_ set this up?"

"Surprised?"

"Yeah, this took a lot of work. You guys aren't exactly known for working hard."

"I resent that. I work very hard. Just because there's a maid and a cook at my house doesn't mean I don't work. It means Sharpay and Mummy and Daddy don't work. No. I take that back. Sharpay works hard on her performing, and Daddy works hard at his job. They like to relax at home. And for your information, I made this entire meal from scratch, all by myself."

"_All_ of it?"

"Well okay, I didn't make the tortillas, I bought them. But what's the big idea? I get that you might not be cool with the fact that I'm a guy, but that doesn't mean you have to attack me personally."

"Whoa, whoa. I wasn't attacking you. I made a silly smart remark, and suddenly you're defending your whole family. Now why did you insist I wear dancing shoes? You know how I feel about dancing."

"Well there's a dance tonight. I'm nominated for king, so I have to be there. And hopefully you'll be my date."

Now you all know that I thought Chad was in denial. So when he said, "that doesn't mean I have to be the queen if you win does it? Because a tiara would look horrible on this hair," my jaw dropped.

"What?" Not my most eloquent, but I didn't know anything else to say.

"What? You want me to be your date. I said I'll do it if I don't have to wear a tiara. I'm gay, not a drag queen."

"You are? I mean, I kind of thought you were, that's why I asked you out, obviously. But I thought you wouldn't admit it to yourself."

"Well of course I've admitted it to myself. But who am I supposed to go out with? The only other gay people I am friends with are Zeke and Jason and they're dating each other. Well besides you, but when are you ever single?"

"So you're saying you think I'm a manwhore."

"Doesn't everybody? Besides, you assumed I was in denial."

"Fair enough."

"So are we going to argue or are we going to eat?"

"We can eat."

And that was that. We ate, we went to the dance, and I did indeed get crowned king. My sister was crowned queen, which was kind of hilarious because when they asked us to dance we surprised our classmates with an impromptu "Bop To The Top", which for the Evans twins was a lot less awkward than some slow dance. And it inwardly excited me because the song had an obviously Latin flair.

After the dance, Chad surprised me. He took me to his house. I was kind of weirded out because if his parents were anything like my father, he wouldn't want to let them know he liked guys. But I didn't get to find out about that, because his parents weren't home. His little sister, who was twelve, wanted to meet whoever had sent him the secret note. I thought that was pretty adorable.

"She's going to love you." He said, cryptically.

No sooner had we opened the door than a girl not much shorter than Kelsi, but lots louder and more like a giggly preteen came barreling down the stairs.

When she yelled, "Chad, Chad, your special date, who is it?", I was sort of glad he'd forewarned me.

"Actually you already know him." Chad said.

What? I didn't know Chad's sister. I was confused. "RYAN EVANS? No way! Chad got a date with the hottest triple threat at East High? How are you so lucky, Chad?"

I'm guessing that meant Chad's parents had raised their children not to discriminate about sexualities. Which meant they were cooler than my dad, straightening my hat and trying to get me back into baseball.

"It's like I've always told you, Megan, the luck is all in the hair. That's why you have it too."

And indeed, there stood a twelve year old Shadia Simmons lookalike. "You said I'm the hottest triple threat at East High, kid. Who are the other triple threats?"

"Duh! Your sister! I'm going to be just like you two when I get older. Except, of course, I don't have a twin. And I can't figure out what you see in my brother. I mean, he's a dumb athlete. He doesn't sing, or dance, or act, or know how to get dressed right in the morning!"

I giggled. Right at this moment, I think Chad was glad his skin was so dark. One shade lighter and I would have been able to see his cheeks get as red as his sports uniforms.

"Your brother has his own personal style. He can be sassy without even opening his mouth, just look at his t-shirt. And he can do all that stuff, he just pretends he can't. You should have seen him when the staff performed at the Lava Springs talent show this year."

"Well this is sufficiently embarrassing, don't you think?"

"For you maybe. Sit down Ryan, tell me how you thought of this! You are amazing!"

Well it was easy to see why Chad believed I got friendly with my followers, I think my biggest fan lives in his house.

After we had brownies with Megan, I drove Chad back to the park so he could get his car. That took us about ten minutes longer than it should have, if you catch my drift. He finally got into his car and we went our separate ways.

Maybe this Valentines Day stuff isn't so bad after all. I finally had a date. And I'll let you in on a little secret. He wants to go out with me again.


End file.
